10. Lilah
LILAH
Expecting me to be the bigger person when I’m 5’2” is where you made your first mistake. I’m tiny. That just means I learned early on how to kick when I fight back.
—Lilah’s Secret Thoughts
“ Y ou have a gym in your basement.” It’s not a question, but the irritating way Killian barks the words at me feels like a question wrapped in an accusation.
I pull my favorite chunky knit blanket tighter around my shoulders and lay my notebook down on the couch before I even bother turning to look at him.
It’s way too early for this shit. The sun has barely risen. This is my quiet time. When the world is still asleep and my thoughts are more clear than any other time of day. I haven’t looked at social media. Haven’t checked my emails or my messages. Haven’t usually talked to another human being. It’s my favorite time to write. And that voice just stole my peace.
“It’s not even six-thirty yet, St. James. Why are you awake?” I turn my head and come face-to-face with Killian, who’s moved and is now leaning behind me, his fists clutching the back of the couch. It’s more like face-to-chest... And holy fucking ab muscles.
Did they get bigger since I saw him in the cage yesterday? I mean... there’s eight of them. Big and defined and kinda bulging right in front of my eyes.
Dillan would love being this up close and personal with those muscles. She’d climb him like a tree. A sturdy tree, strong enough to hold her steady. Stupid fucking tree.
My eyes track a tiny bead of sweat as it trickles down over his abs like it’s running over a literal washboard. I really shouldn’t want to lick that bead of sweat.
Shouldn’t. Not don’t.
Stupid, stupid man and his stupidly godlike body.
Seriously... what did I do wrong in a different life that he’s the only person I could go to for help? The one person I can trust to do it, even if it’s the only thing I can trust him with? I mean, this is just not fair.
“Hey, princess...” He snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I smack them away. “My eyes are up here.”
I arch a brow and purse my lips in an attempt to look unimpressed.
Doubt it works.
“Keep dreaming, St. James.” Why the hell is it so hot in here?
“I get up at five a.m. every day to get my run in if I can before I go to Crucible. Why are you up?”
I tuck my legs under the blanket and turn away from him. “It’s easier to write when the world around me is quiet.”
Killian’s green eyes narrow, like he wants to know more, but he’s smart enough not to push, so I change the topic and answer his earlier question, “Of course I have a home gym. I thought I mentioned that. When I had the house built, I made sure to have the basement fitted for a gym on one side and a soundproof recording studio on the other. I want to be able to do as much here as possible.”
“Sounds like you’re hiding, Lilah.” He tugs my arm so I’m forced to bend my neck and look at him. I should hate the move. Mostly because it’s what he used to do whenever he wanted my attention. And of course it still works. Asshole .
“I’m not hiding. I just like the quiet.” I can hear the lie in my own words as easily as he probably can. “Don’t you ever get tired of the noise? You’ve got to have a ton of it in your world too. Especially with a fight coming up. I bet everyone wants a piece of you.”
Killian wraps my hair around his finger and plays with the curl.
It would be so easy to close my eyes and pretend...
Act like the past ten years didn’t happen.
That we weren’t completely different people now than we were then.
But I don’t. I can’t.
There’s no going backward in life if you want to be sure of what’s in front of you.
“Come on now... you know my Dad would rip me out of his cage by my balls if I let the noise in. Easiest way to lose a fight is to fight distracted. One of the first things we learn to do is tune it all out.” He tugs again, then drops my hair. “So what time can you be ready to head to Crucible?”
“What?” I spin around to face him and get caught in my blanket like a turtle caught in his own shell, yanking my legs and arms free but getting more tangled before I can finally rip it off. I lift up on my knees and grab the back of the couch so I’m closer to his height. Well, not really, but at least I’m a little higher. “Did you not just hear me say I have everything set up so I can chill and write and regroup in the privacy and quiet of my own home?”
Killian slides his hands up my ribs and under my arms and lifts me from the couch and plants my feet on the floor like I’m a rag doll he can move at will.
“No—” I snap and smack away his hands. “You cannot just move me because you feel like it, you jerk.”
He crosses his thick freaking arms over his chest and glares. “You asked me why I was up? Well I’m training for my next title fight, princess. I’ve got to defend my title against some asshole who’s hungry as hell for my belt, and that means I’ve got to train harder than him. That starts before I set foot in the gym, and it doesn’t end when I get home at night. If you need me by your side, I’m gonna need you at Crucible.”
Jesus. Can’t he at least put a shirt on if he’s going to lecture me?
It would make it easier to focus on his words instead of his muscles.
I reach over and grab my notebook from the couch in a huff. “Fine. But I’m not staying there all day.”
“Then I guess you’re letting Xander inside, aren’t you? Because you need to have someone with you at all times, Lilah. If you’re home, maybe you can get away with one of the other guys. Jamie or Noah or Maddox or Rome. Hell, Maverick’s season will be over after this weekend. He can bring Rosie over with him.
“That’s not fair,” I mumble. Rosie is the sweetest little girl in the world, and Maverick is so protective of who he lets around her that Killian knows how much we all dote on her. “Don’t use Rosie against me.”
“I’ll use every weapon in my arsenal if I have to. Now go get dressed. If I’m late today, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
The way his eyes are cast down over me, I know he’s daring me to argue, and I refuse to give him what he wants.
He’s doing me a favor.
I have to be nice . . . right?
It’s a shame nice goes right out the window where this man is concerned, and slightly irrational anger replaces it with the heat of a billion burning suns.
Maybe one day, I’ll release my negativity into the universe, but today is not that day.
Today, I’m holding on to it like a safety blanket.
“Fine. I’ll go with you this morning and ask Xander if he can bring me home later so I can get some work done too.” I clutch my notebook to my chest. It’s not like I haven’t spent a few hours a day at the gym for the past week anyway. “Do you guys have any good classes I could take?”
His green eyes twinkle as we walk side by side out of the room. “What kind of classes?”
“High-intensity? Something that’s going to work everything? I’m trying to lose a few inches.” My skin itches with the thought of that damn article and the way they compared the photos of me from two years ago to my photos now. Nothing like seeing yourself side by side to see every pound you’ve gained.
Killian slams his hand against the door frame, nearly clotheslining me before I can make my escape.
“What the hell, St. James?” I squeak and duck under his arm. “You’re supposed to be keeping me safe, not nearly knocking me out.”
“Lilah, stop.” His voice... that voice... It’s gravelly. Strong but quiet. So damn serious, it sends chills down my arms. “Please.”
The please stops me in my tracks, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. I’m frozen in place, certain I don’t want to look into his eyes right now. I know it in the depths of my soul.
Damn him.
“Don’t listen to them, princess. Don’t let them in your head. You, Lilah Belle Ryan, are fucking perfect. You’re beautiful, and you’re kind... well, to everyone who isn’t me. So what if you gained a pound or two, Lilah. They look really fucking good on you.”
Goosebumps break out over my skin when his voice is suddenly closer, and his breath skirts over my skin.
“Your curves are perfect.” His words are slow and heavy and make my knees weaker than they should. Weaker than I’ll ever admit. “Your legs are the kind men fantasize about getting lost between for fucking days.”
Killian’s breathing slows and grows heavy, like he’s forcing himself to regulate it. Like he’s holding on to an invisible string, refusing to allow it to snap.
The energy in the room shifts.
It thickens.
Like it has its own pulse. Its own heartbeat.
“If you were mine, I’d worship every inch of your body every day.” I can feel his hand reach out, like he’s going to touch me, but he doesn’t, and suddenly I’m not sure whether I’m disappointed or relieved. “I’d make damn sure you knew how much I appreciated every... incredible... curve.”
His hand flutters by me as he drops it and angles toward me long enough to see his eyes harden and narrow before he storms off, leaving me standing here, completely shaken.
Oh. My. God.
What the hell was that?
Killian
“ K iller,” Hudson calls out as I work the battle ropes in the corner of the room, fucking desperate for something mindless. I need something that’s gonna make me so goddamn tired, I’ll forget the line I already came dangerously close to crossing.
The first of how many mornings I have to wake up and smell Lilah Ryan?
Sugar and a sweet spice... vanilla maybe. Like a Belgium waffle.
Sweet and spicy. Perfect for her.
I’m so screwed.
“Killian—” Hudson grabs the rope, stopping the motion. Stopping me. “What the fuck, kid? Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to talk to you for ten minutes.”
I stare at my uncle, one-half of my training team, and wait for him to drop the rope, already so on edge I don’t want to talk.
Not to him. Not to anyone.
“I’m sorry. Did you think that was a rhetorical fucking question? When I speak, you answer or you get the hell off the mats.”
Hudson Kingston, my mom’s younger brother, my dad’s first fighter to win a belt training under him, and in some ways my uncle, but in others, the older brother I never had. He’s rarely a hard-ass, so when he is, I know it’s bad.
“Do I need to change into red booty shorts and a tight white tank to get your attention or are my tits just not quite big enough for you?”
I drop the rope, plant one foot, and knock all six and a half feet, two hundred and forty pounds of him back five feet with the other, driving us both down to the mat. He lands with a bounce like I knew he would, this mat has springs under it, and I straddle his waist. “Watch your fucking mouth, Uncle.”
“Woo-hoo,” he blows out and shakes his head. “It’s like that already, huh?”
He doesn’t try to fight me.
He could try to flip us to get me out of the mount and into a position he can control, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even try.
“Kid, you’re so fucking screwed, you don’t even know it yet.”
I release my hold and drop back on the mat. “Yeah, I actually do, thanks .”
Lilah isn’t even fifteen feet away from me, walking on the damn StairMaster again. Like her ass isn’t already enough to bring a man to his knees. Worse, that thought makes me want to kill any motherfucker who looks her way.
“I’m well aware of exactly how screwed I am, thanks,” I groan.
“Your mom and dad know, you know?” Hudson sits up and offers me his hand.
I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “You talking in riddles for a reason?”
“Nope. Just warning you.” He looks over my shoulder and winces. “Incoming. See ya later, kid.” Hudson smacks my shoulder, then waves at someone. “Hey, Scarlet.”
Fuck.
I turn and smile. “Hey, Mom.”
Five minutes later, I’m sitting across from my Dad’s desk, while Mom sits behind it and Dad stands next to her. Apparently, this day could actually get worse, and now I’m sitting in the crosshairs of hell.
“Would you care to explain exactly what you were thinking?” Mom asks.
Scarlet Kingston St. James is the master of her universe.
She’s a woman who’s dominated a man’s world for three decades as the president of the Philadelphia Kings football franchise and vice president of King Corp., my family’s multi-billion-dollar empire. She’s a badass and a hard-ass to everyone in the world who’s not her family. To us, she’s Mom, and to my dad, she’s everything. She hates when the world doesn’t bend to her iron will... and hates it even more when it’s her kids refusing to do so.
“Not really.” Okay, maybe my answer is a little too indifferent, but there’s no way this goes well for me, and I can’t decide if Dad’s humoring her or if he agrees with her. “I’m twenty-six, Mom.”
“And... you’re still my child. And if you need to remind me you’re a grown man, try considering what that says about you, not me.”
“Fuck me,” Dad grumbles. “Duchess, he’s a grown man.”
“Are you kidding me?” she snaps and pushes to her feet. “He moved in with her, Cade. There was a bomb in her dressing room less than a month ago. She has a security team surrounding her twenty-four seven. A team stacked full of people licensed to carry guns. What exactly is our son going to do to protect Lilah Ryan that her security team can’t?”
Dad opens his mouth, but Mom’s not done with her rant. “And aren’t you supposed to be yelling at him about his fight? Shouldn’t you be lecturing him about focus and consequences?”
“Mom—”
“No.” She spins back to me. “My only concern is you and your safety. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care what you think you’re doing. You’re not. She doesn’t need you, and you’re putting yourself in danger, playing house. Think, Killian. What are you going to do? Jump in front of a bomb for this girl you haven’t seen in ten years?”
“Scarlet.” Dad’s voice is quiet. It’s the voice we heard growing up when we knew we were in trouble. “Stop. You’re allowed to be worried about him, but Kill’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. One who I’m pretty sure understands what he’s doing.” Dad flashes me a look that says don’t open your fucking mouth, kid, or I’ll skin you alive myself. So I do as I was silently told and watch, because honest to God, nobody ever wants to fight with my mom. You never win. Never . And given the chance, she’s not gonna like what I’m gonna say.
“Cade...” Mom softens, and Dad pulls her into his side. “I hate when you’re calmer than me.”
“Somebody has to be.” He kisses her temple, then looks at me. “No distractions, Killer. Don’t let me catch this interfering or I will rain hell down on you like you’ve never seen. And let me know if she’s going to be hanging around here during the day. I’ll get the extra office cleared out, so she has a space to go when you’re busy.”
I stare at him, with that’s it? on the tip of my tongue.
Luckily, I’m smart enough not to ask that.
“She’s got a full gym in her basement. I’d already gotten close to two hours in there before I even came in today. No distractions. My title is still my top priority.” I’m supposed to mean those words. I meant them a month ago. I meant them a week ago. I’m not so sure I mean them now, and I don’t know what the fuck that means.
Lilah Ryan is a friend.
Barely.
She hates my guts.
Probably has a voodoo doll that looks like me in her nightstand.
Maybe it’s tucked right in there next to her vibrator.
And there go my thoughts right back to those damn shorts and those fucking legs.
I’m saved from my spiraling thoughts when one of the girls who works the front desk knocks on the door. “Cade,” she calls out.
“Come on in,” Dad answers.
“Umm, sorry to interrupt.” She looks around the room and clearly reads the tension. “But one of the guys is bothering Lilah Ryan, and Brynlee looks like she’s one step away from knocking him out cold.”
“Shit,” Dad and I both mutter as we push through the door.
“Maybe we should set up her basement for you to do more of your training there.” Dad grabs my arm and yanks me back when I see the asshole getting his ass handed to him by Brynlee. “Let’s talk about it after your mother leaves.”
Whatever Brynn says to the dude has him hanging his head and walking away, sulking like a puppy dog someone just kicked. My sister, however, looks disappointed she didn’t get to kick his ass.
Then there’s Lilah.
Lilah, who looks scared until she sees me.
Her wide eyes settle, and her head lifts just a bit. It’s a mix between a brave face and relief, and that, right there, is why I agreed to all the bullshit that’s no doubt coming my way. Because that girl is the same girl who used to feel safe when she was with me just because it was me. That girl is still in there, and that means I’ve still got a chance to find that girl again. If she’ll let me in.